No Homo
by RT Cipher
Summary: Jean was-no-IS straight. But Marco, man. / College was supposed to be a time of fun, adventure, strengthening his identity, partying, getting some space from his overprotective mother, and pursuing a degree in law. Questioning why he wanted to do...erm, intimate...cough...things with his new roomate was not supposed to be on the list.
1. 1 Not a Burglar

**1. Not a Burglar**

"Yes. No. No. Yes, mom. I… Mom. Mom! Mom, I'm _fine_. No, I do not need you to come and pick me up. I'm fine. No, there are no drug dealers living next door nor are there prostitutes. Yes, I can get to the university easily. No. Yes. Yes. I am in the exact same condition as I was when you called me ten minutes ago. Mom. Mom, I'm… Mom! Stop worrying! No, no, don't cry. Please, _mom_. I promise I'll call you if anything happens but honestly, nothing will. I am _fine_, mom. I promise. Honest. No I haven't met him yet. He's not home right now. He said he'd be at his job when I arrived and won't be back till six. He is not a drug dealer, mom. Well, no… The place doesn't look like it's being lived in by a drug dealer. Mom. No, I don't know what a drug dealer's apartment looks like, I'm just saying! Mom, nothing is going to happen to me and even if something does happen I know how to defend myself. I will be fine. Yes, I'll call you. Mom, that's ridiculous. I can't call you _every_ night. I promise to call you once a week, okay? Yes, mom. Je t'aime aussi, maman."

Jean sighed once the call ended and flopped onto the brown couch. It wasn't long enough to hold his entire length so his ankles and a little less than a quarter of his calves were hanging over the edge. He stared up at the white ceiling, the only thing disrupting the blankness being the light fixtures and the air conditioning unit against one of the walls.

Jean told himself that he should probably move his bags from the entrance and figure out which was his room. He should also get himself acquainted with the two-bedroom apartment, as he would be living in it for at least the next two years, maybe all four.

But he was way too tired and the brown couch was much too comfortable to get up from.

—

"Aagh!"

Jean shot up from the couch, but he had forgotten where he was and so he ended up falling onto the hardwood floor with a resounding thud.

"Fuck," he groaned, grimacing as he got to his knees, rubbing his back. He was definitely going to have some kind of bruising. Maybe he could convince his roommate to invest in carpeting? Really fluffy, soft, and padded carpeting?

Jean heard footsteps and grumbling until the source of the noises came into view.

It was a boy Jean had never seen before. He had short black hair and a dusting of freckles across his nose and cheeks. He had a bag slung over one shoulder and was wearing a pair of old jeans and a plaid flannel shirt over a ragged t-shirt.

The newcomer stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Jean kneeling on the floor, holding his back as if he were some ninety-year-old man with a bad spine.

"Well you're certainly not a burglar," Freckles said, his lips quirking up into a small grin.

Jean rolled his eyes and got to his feet, "Don't judge people by appearances. I could be a serial killer that focuses on freckle faced individuals."

The boy laughed, "I'm generally a good judge of character. I'm Marco. Marco Bodt."

"Jean Kirstein. I'm assuming you're the guy from the website?"

Marco nodded, "Yes. It's pretty convenient, huh? Made roommate hunting a lot easier and I didn't have to worry about some forty year old serial rapist answering my ad."

Jean nodded. Truthfully, that website caused him a lot of trouble. Well, his mom was the source of that trouble as she had been fussing over him when he was on it even though it was almost a hundred percent safe. It was a website that only students of Trost University could access. Many used it to find potential roommates as the dorm fees at TU were ridiculously high and it was cheaper to split the rent of a nearby apartment with one or two, sometimes three, other people.

Jean scratched the back of his neck, "So, I'll go grab my bags from the front."

"How about I show you around first?" Marco offered.

Jean nodded and Marco showed Jean around the simple apartment. There was a white tiled kitchenette, the living room he had fallen asleep in, one bathroom, and two bedrooms right next to each other.

"This one's yours," Marco said as he opened the door to the left. Inside, the set up was simple; twin bed, closet, desk, chair, and bookshelf. Jean immediately knew that the bookshelf would continue to collect dust or be the storage space for junk he was no doubt going to end up collecting somehow over the next couple years.

Jean walked up to the window and looked out, whistling low, "Nice view."

Seeing as they were on the fourth floor, they got a pretty nice view of the Trost skyline. Trost wasn't a city full of skyscrapers; the tallest building being only twelve floors high. Jean could even see the university not too far away. Definitely walking distance as Marco had promised.

"So, you like it?" Marco asked, biting his lip.

"Yeah, man, it's great," Jean said. "Now I just need to get a job. I've got money saved up from my old job back home but that won't last four years."

"You can try the Career Services office on campus or the old fashioned way of dropping into every store that has a _hiring_ sign," Marco said, leading the way out of Jean's room and back to the entry way to help Jean with his bags. "The latter was how I got my part time gig at this café a couple blocks away."

"I'll check it out after freshers' week," Jean said, picking up his duffle while Marco grabbed his suitcase. When they deposited the bags in Jean's new room, Jean's phone went off.

"Goddammit," Jean groaned, already knowing whom it would be. "Maman, pourquoi?"

Marco gave Jean a funny look as Jean dug through his pocket to grab his phone, groaning at the screen as he saw that he was right on the mark.

"Mom, seriously? I _just_ got off the phone with you," Jean whined. He winced as his mother yelled at him before replying, "Désolé. I'm tired, that's all. I fell asleep on the couch. Nothing happened, I am in one complete piece and drug free. Yes, he's back. What? I can't, mom, no, please. Ugh, fine."

Marco stood awkwardly near the bed, wringing his hands in front of him. He was looking everywhere but at Jean and seemed unsure of whether to leave or stay.

Jean sighed and eyed Marco with an inquisitive gaze as he informed his overprotective mother, "Black hair, freckles across his nose and cheeks, alert brown eyes, no signs of redness around the irises, about 180 centimeters, jeans and a flannel over a t-shirt, fit, no visible needle marks, no tattoos, no piercings, no facial hair, white teeth. Is that enough, mom, he probably thinks I'm some kind of creep now."

Jean closed his eyes as his mother yammered on in his ear. He knew she meant well, but she was a bit more than a little overprotective. He didn't want to imagine what would have happened if he had a younger sister. He'd pity the kid for sure.

Finally, his mother finished and Jean smiled softly as she started to get sentimental and weepy again, "I know. I miss you too. Je t'aime, maman. I'll see you soon."

Jean pocketed his phone and looked up to realize that Marco was still there. He flushed bright red, "Uh, sorry. My mom's a bit… you know."

Marco smiled and shook his head, "First time away from home?"

Jean sighed, "No, though you wouldn't be able to tell with the way she's been acting. This'll just be the longest and farthest."

Marco nodded, "My dad's not so bad but he's only three hours away by car. Let's go out and get dinner. We can get to know each other over some steaks. My treat."

"Who am I to say no to free food?" Jean said with a grin.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Heyyo!_ _So this is highly experimental. My first attempt at a multi-chapter fanfic. I have no idea when this'll update as this is literally all I have written for it and I'm working on a bunch of other stories at the same time that I've prioritized, ie. Stubborn Wolf, Boss with Benefits, and Saviour found on my fictionpress account._ _And then there's stuff I'm doing in the background too so basically, don't expect any updates for this story any time soon. Feedback though, would be much appreciated._

_Laters!_


	2. 2 Not a Dick

**2. Not a Dick**

Steaks were a fantastic idea even if they were served by a high schooler who seemed to have an eternal stick up his ass.

"So, you're French?" Marco asked, finally breaking the silence that had hovered over them since they left the apartment.

"Yeah, partially. My dad was German, or so I've been told." At Marco's puzzled expression, Jean explained, "I never met him. Died before I was born in a shipwreck."

"Oh, I'm sorry for bringing it up," Marco worried his bottom lip and Jean had to smile at the freckled man. Usually, he got annoyed whenever someone apologized for his father's death; it wasn't like they could have done anything about it, so why apologize for something that happened more than eighteen years ago? But Marco looked pretty adorab—what?

"It's fine," Jean assured him, slightly shaken by where his thoughts were leading him. "What about you?"

"Oh, both my parents are German. I moved down to the outskirts of Trost with my dad when I was six or so, after my parents' divorce."

"That must've sucked," Jean replied, grabbing his coke and taking a few sips.

Marco shrugged, "I was too young to understand what was happening and I've always been more of a daddy's boy."

"So, outskirts, huh? You a little farm boy then?"

"You could say that. My dad's got a ranch and we used to breed and train horses but now he's only taking care of a couple. I used to sneak off and go on midnight rides through the pastures."

"You don't look much like someone who'd enjoy taking the reigns and riding," Jean commented.

Marco blushed, taking Jean by surprise. The Trost raised German boy's freckles stood out more on his reddened skin and he was nibbling on his bottom lip again. Jean couldn't stop staring at the piece of abused pink flesh.

"Uh, well, I," Marco stuttered and there it was again. That thought. _Cute_.

Jean looked away when the waiter from before arrived with their meals.

"Here," the boy snipped, dropping the plates in front of them. He left without another word.

"So not getting a tip," Jean muttered, helping Marco trade plates. The kid had switched up their orders.

"Maybe he's just having a bad day and taking it out on us?" Marco suggested. "You've probably been a dick when you were in a bad mood or had a not so great day."

Jean rolled his eyes, grabbing the barbeque sauce provided on each table and drowning his steak, "I'm always a dick. Voted dickiest dick in the yearbook."

Marco laughed, "That I do not believe."

"Which part? Because it wasn't the official yearbook, obviously. The yearbook council put all the _great_ ideas rejected under the 'not school appropriate' clause into a webpage thing. Director's cut of the yearbook."

"But you're so nice," Marco insisted.

Jean scoffed, "That's the first time I've ever heard that." Although, thinking on it, Jean realized that his dickish tendencies hadn't risen to the occasion since meeting Marco. Well. The other boy would be quickly disillusioned.

"No but it's true. I was so relieved that my roommate wasn't a total jerk."

Jean shrugged and worked on his steak. "What about you? Any high school superlatives?"

Again, Marco flushed red. He studiously cut his fish steak, taking great care in each saw of his knife.

Jean couldn't pass up the opportunity, "Oh? What was it? C'mon, I told you mine." Teasing was not something Jean did but he couldn't help himself.

"Yours wasn't embarrassing," Marco mumbled.

"Dude, we're going to be living together for the next two to four years. I'll learn all sorts of embarrassing things about you," Jean justified. "Besides, the picture they used for that stupid title was completely unflattering."

"Then I'll tell you if you show me that website," Marco compromised.

"Hell no. I told you about the title, now your turn."

"_Jean_," Marco whined. Jean felt a jolt where he most certainly should _not_ be feeling jolts when another _male_ whined his name, even if the pronunciation was like liquid and very close to accurate for someone without a French accent.

Jean cleared his throat and made sure his napkin was securely on his lap, "N-no."

Marco huffed and mumbled something that Jean couldn't understand.

"What? Speak up."

Heaving a tortured sigh, Marco grumbled, "Most innocent and the cutest baby."

Jean burst out laughing.

"Jean!" Marco complained. "It was horrible. I don't even know how they got a hold of one of my baby pictures or the one they used for the most innocent and then it was in the yearbook and I _still_ don't get any slack."

"I really want to see those pictures," Jean chuckled.

"No way, not gonna happen. _Ever_," Marco replied adamantly.

They finished their meal talking about likes and dislikes as when they had communicated through the website, they only discussed living habits, saving the 'getting to know you' conversations for when they met in person. They didn't have all that much in common. For one, Marco liked to read and was studying to become a children's psychologist. Jean wasn't all that hyped about kids, they tended to be scared of him, and his textbooks were the only form of reading he did, and even that wasn't of his own volition. Jean was a city kid, not a fan of the outdoors, but ranch boy Marco loved spending time under the sun or stars. His tanned complexion was a testament to that.

Marco paid and, despite Jean's disbelief, tipped their pissy waiter, and the two left the restaurant to walk back to their apartment. They walked in a companionable silence, Jean taking in the surroundings. Trost was a quaint little city. Jean was from somewhat of a metropolis so the quietness of Trost was something new. He hadn't decided whether he liked it or not yet but he had plenty of time to think it over.

They were a block from the apartment building when Jean stopped in his tracks, squinting across the road.

"Jean?" Marco asked. "What's wrong."

"Nothing…I thought I…what the fuck?" Jean marched across the street and slid into an alley between two stores. "HEY!" he yelled.

He faintly realized Marco was chasing after him but red and rage were at the front of his mind right then.

"Hey, leave her alone!" Jean ordered, storming up to the trio. Two guys, a bit shorter than Jean but considerably buffer, were crowding around a really short, blond haired girl. It was clear their presence was not welcomed.

"Shit," one of them muttered before pushing the girl into the wall and taking off down the alley. Jean ran after them but they climbed over a fence and ran out of sight. Jean cursed and punched the chain-link fence before turning back around. Marco was tending to the girl and when they both noticed his return, the girl ran up to him.

"Thank you so much," she smiled up at him gratefully. She had big, crystalline blue eyes; the picture of innocence and it only infuriated Jean more.

"It's fine. Be more careful next time and call for help," Jean replied. "Can you get home on your own?"

The girl nodded, "I'll be fine. Thank, again. Could I get your name?"

"Jean."

"I'm Krista. Thank you so much, I've got to go now though. I hope I see you and Marco again."

The three exited the alley and Krista scurried off in the opposite direction Jean and Marco were headed. The two resumed their walk back to their apartment but Jean could tell Marco was itching to say something.

"What?" Jean snapped.

"And you said you weren't nice," Marco mocked. He had a smug little grin on his face that Jean couldn't get pissed at. "You're so not a dick."

Jean made a noncommittal grunt.

* * *

><p><em>AN: So I lied and updated rather quickly. Marco...what on earth could you have possibly been thinking? And yes, Jean is already being affected by the Marco vibes. Also, I forgot to apologize in the previous chapter for all the mistakes I'm bound to make in relation to going OOC and not getting the cannon details of characters right. Like how Jean is supposed to be from Trost but I fucked up. And if you're still in school, hope y'all did okay on your exams. I didn't fail any of mine despite how I thought I would (I literally finished all of my exams an hour early...)_

_Yeah._

_Also, merry christmas/happy hannukah/happy new year/happy whatever holidays fall in dec/jan. Should anyone actually review, I'll only be able to reply after new year's as I'm being forced to go to India... Hopefully y'all enjoy your winter break/holidays/whatever._

_Laters!_


	3. 3 Not in the Gay Way

**3. Not in the Gay Way**

Freshman orientation day was busy. Jean was glad he had Marco to lead him around, as the other boy had apparently come down to TU on various occasions during high school for integration events and such, thereby already knowing most of his way around. They were supposed to make their way to one of the auditoriums – TU had three of them – and Jean was still half asleep. Marco was an early riser, Jean had come to realize quickly. Marco went on hour-long morning jogs that started at five _everyday_. He had invited Jean to join him but waking up before the sun was not Jean's cup of tea and Marco never pushed the subject after a bit of minor teasing.

"We can get you coffee after the welcome speeches," Marco assured him, noticing how Jean dragged his feet and continuously yawned. It was rather obvious.

"Mhmm," Jean mumbled. He was trailing sluggishly behind Marco, just trying to keep his eyes open long enough to avoid crashing into people or walls. One mug of coffee was not enough for him to be functional before ten a.m., much less when it was only half past seven and he had been up until around three.

Since Marco was one to be early, they didn't have to push through a crowd of incoming freshman to get into the auditorium that Marco said was reserved for the drama department. As the place was mostly empty and neither of them knew anyone else, they decided to sit together along the edge of the middle section of seats. Jean flopped down in the cushioned folding chair with a heavy sigh, head tilted back, eyes closed, arms limp over the arm rests, and legs sprawled as far as the compact seating allowed.

"Really not a morning person, are you?" Marco chuckled from next to him.

"It's been near a week. If you haven't figured that out by now, you're kind of a fucking retard," Jean murmured.

His dickish tendencies had, as Jean predicted, come to shine over the course of the past couple days. Still, Marco was convinced he was a genuinely nice person and refused to believe otherwise. Jean let his roommate believe what he wanted; he'd realize the error of his thinking sooner or later. Probably sooner.

Jean almost fell back asleep but someone knocked his head to the side, bending his neck in a way necks shouldn't be bent.

"Hey, watch where you're going!" he scowled, massaging his neck. He looked up and saw a boy with green eyes and short black hair. He was with a shorter boy with longish blond hair and blue eyes.

"Jean," Marco whispered next to him in an attempt to calm him down, but Jean's scowl turned murderous when he recognized the green-eyed boy who was staring down at him.

"Jaeger!? What the fuck are _you_ doing here?" Jean shot up from his seat, every detail of sleep forgotten from his mind.

"Kirstein," Eren sneered.

Jean and Eren stood face to face, glare to glare. Jean found spiteful glee in the fact that Eren was still shorter than him as, had they been on even ground, Eren's eyes would be a good couple centimeters down.

"Jean," Marco tugged on Jean's sleeve. Jean saw that Eren's blond friend was doing the same to Eren.

"Eren, we'll get in trouble," the short blond boy whispered to Eren.

"Boyfriend?" Jean scoffed. He didn't notice Marco wince.

"I could say the same to you," Eren retorted.

Jean rolled his eyes, ignoring the jump in his chest and clenching of his stomach at the idea of Marco as his—nope. "Roommate," Jean said curtly.

"Best friend," Eren replied just as shortly.

The blond boy sighed and looked to Marco, "I'm sorry."

"Me too," Marco replied.

Jean and Eren's heads snapped to their respective pacifist, "Why the hell are you apologizing?"

They turned to glare at each other, "Piss off!"

"Stop copying me!"

"Shut up!"

"Fucking quit it—"

"—horseface!"

"—incestuous bastard!"

They stared at each other in shock. The silence lasted all of two seconds.

"What the fuck did you call me?!"

"Oi, brats, that's enough!"

Both Jean and Eren found themselves crouched on the floor nursing their now throbbing heads as they moaned in pain.

When they looked up, a very short man with cropped black hair and thinly framed glasses perched on his nose was glaring down at them. Eren's friend and Marco were standing pale faced, unsure as to what to do. Jean noticed that the auditorium had filled up since he had been half asleep and they were the center of attraction.

"Professor, we're so sorry," Marco stuttered.

The small man narrowed his eyes at Jean and Eren, "Get up, idiots." Jean and Eren obeyed immediately when it looked like the professor was going to strike them again. "Classes haven't even started yet and you're already causing problems. I don't care what petty squabble you two find yourselves in; I will not be lenient the next time you cause a disturbance. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," Jean and Eren replied. For a tiny man, he was terrifying. He oozed authority and dominance, eyes a stone cold grey.

When the man walked away, Eren and Jean scowled at each other before Eren's blond friend pulled Eren away and Marco tugged on Jean's arm to make him sit down.

"Care to explain?" Marco asked in a hushed whisper.

Jean grimaced, "Eren Jaeger, dickface extraordinaire. He's an arrogant asshole with a holier-than-thou attitude off the charts."

Marco raised a brow, "That doesn't really explain why you two seem to hate each other's guts."

"We don't 'seem' to. We do. His school came over to mine for some sports event thing and we've hated each other since we met. Why the fuck is he at Trost? And I'm not a horse, the fucking prick."

Marco bit his lip and Jean glared at him harshly.

Marco shrugged and raised his hands defensively, "To be fair…your face is a bit long so I can see how that nickname came about."

Jean's glare intensified, "I know where you sleep, Bodt."

"It's not a bad thing. Some people do look weird but you look attractive and…uh, I mean," Marco's eyes widened and his face lit up as he stumbled over his words.

Jean's scowl weakened as he felt his cheeks heat up in response to the compliment and Marco's flustered flailing.

Marco trailed off into silence, face burning, and freckles shining like tiny little stars as he fidgeted in his seat and looked at his lap.

Jean rubbed the back of his neck, "Uh, thanks, man."

"No problem," Marco squeaked, still completely embarrassed.

Feeling as if he needed to say something more in return, Jean added, "And, uh, you're pretty attractive too, like, pretty cute." That was not what Jean had wanted to say and he quickly added, "But you know, not in the gay way. Like, I as another dude can see that chicks would find you attractive, you know? The chicks that go for the cute freckled guys 'cause they're adorable and you want to, uh, yeah, you know…"

Now Jean was red faced and stumbling over his words. Being nice was not something he was used to. He just sounded like the most awkward teenager ever. Being a dick was much easier.

Marco was rubbing his hands together and didn't seem able to look at Jean, not that Jean could look at Marco either.

"Uh, so why did you call Eren an incestuous bastard?" Marco asked.

Jean was grateful for the subject change and replied, "There's been rumors of him boning his sister. I've never met her but I bet she's just as annoying and ugly as her brother."

Marco raised a brow, "Your insult was based on rumors?"

Jean shrugged, "It was a common rumor, easiest way to get him pissed and off his high horse. He's super sensitive and defensive about anything to do with his sister, which is why the rumors came about. Apparently she's just as protective of him or something."

Marco didn't get a chance to comment as the lights dimmed and a man with a prominent square jaw and slicked back blond hair, who Jean vaguely recognized as someone important in the school, stood to the podium.

Everyone quieted down and Jean relaxed into the seat, ready to be bored out of his mind.

The man stood straight and cast a calculating gaze over the other freshman before beginning.

"Good morning…" and that was where Jean zoned out.

* * *

><p><em>AN: __I don't know how college works since I've still got a couple more months left of high school and I've probably screwed myself over by having a pattern for the chapter titles..__. Let's continue to pretend I know what I'm doing._

_Review Response:_

_TerenaTempestira: Glad you're enjoying, and thank you for being the first to comment :) I'll try to work on this more but I'm nearly done with one of my original fics so I've been focusing on that one more lately._

_Laters!_


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